“What for?”
“As a witness.”
“Witness to what?” demanded Saxton, with a blank stare.
“To what I’m going to tell you. Saxton, you are an unmitigated scoundrel!”
“W—what?”
With a bound the manufacturer came to his feet. He seemed about to spring upon his audacious foreman. He doubled up his fists and tried to awe the venturesome Dunn, who coolly looked him in the eye.
“Oh, yes,” derided the foreman. “Try it. Just once! I think I’d be willing to pay a big fine just for the excuse to give you the beating of your life.”
“What’s that? what’s this?” gasped the astonished Saxton.
“Say,” continued his foreman in sharp, cutting tones. “I’ve worked my last stroke for the meanest man I ever knew. You’ve lost a better man in Martin Hardy, but you’ll miss me just the same. Saxton, you are a thief. You stole poor Hardy’s automobile patents. You are now trying to rob him of his airship patents. You’ve sold your soul outright, and I predict that you’ll go down in failure and disgrace. I’m through with you, and in time every decent man in your employ will leave you in the lurch. You sent me out to-day to use my influence to get that big motor-cycle order from the Evans people. Well, I’ve got it, and I’m going to turn it over to the Diebold works. You unmitigated scoundrel! Come, Hardy.”
Ben saw Jasper Saxton, white and trembling, sink back into his chair in a heap, collapsed. As they got outside, his impetuous but determined companion left him summarily, with the words: